


Crossing Impossible Paths

by ReneeFury



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Female Protagonist, Major Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 05:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12499312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeFury/pseuds/ReneeFury
Summary: When Dianna sees Sam for the first time in 2 years, life might seem pretty good. But when the unthinkable happens, Dianna must sacrifice to save her sister. And with the apocalypse fast approaching, they must try anything to keep it from happening. Will they succeed? And can they save their friends while the weight of the world is on their shoulders?





	1. When we Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Sister](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Sister).



Dianna  
The forest was burning and it totally wasn’t my fault.  
I mean, yeah, I have done some questionable things in my short 22 years of life, but deliberately starting a forest fire wasn’t one of them. And is a police officer going to believe me, a black leather-jacketed brunette that looks like hell? Or a respectable farmer whose family had been there for generations? Yeah, the odds weren't in my favor, even though the farmer had been delirious and possessed by a ghost an hour ago. Not that he remembered any of that. Long story short, I found the ghost’s body so I started to burn it, and then Poof! Ghost-slash-farmer was trying to kill me, and the small and controlled fire I had started got out of hand. So I put out as much as I could and hightailed out of there while the farmer called the cops.  
My life shouldn’t have gone this way, no one should have to be a hunter. Even if I had wanted to be a hunter, the amount I had killed was outrageous, even for a better and more devoted hunter than me. The road I had been on was quiet, not surprising for the middle of nowhere. It was an hour before I pulled into a town, so tiny it wasn't even on the map.  
I probably should’ve gone to a hotel first, but I was most definitely not staying here. I had an aversion to those things since the last one anyway, it had smelled like sweat and death, also the entire staff had ended up being vampires. But today’s awfulness calls for a beer, or two…

I knew I would regret that last beer- Not that I can’t hold it, but the barflies start hitting on you after a while. You tell them to get lost, then they get mad, they try to pummel you. In turn you hand their asses to them, and they complain to, in this case, two rather large buddies. They half kill you and leave you in a… back ally, or so it would appear. 

“Damn... “I groaned getting up. “You manage to get through monster hunting with only a gash in the leg, and a few half-drunk pigs get you? You need to work on that…” I mumble to myself while limping to my cycle. I checked myself for more injuries, which turned out to be a black eye, a busted lip, and to top it all off, I had a dislocated shoulder. I groaned as I got on my bike, a black Yamaha XS 650. This was gonna be one long trip, not only starting at 11-ish, but riding bruised and busted was hellish. I didn't want to, but I had to have a break, I was out of everything: ammo, money and stamina. So I had to head back, back somewhere I had left over two years ago. I put in my earphones in one handed and rode away listening to classic rock. Comforting myself with the thought that, at the very least, the music would be good.

About halfway in-between nowhere and nothing, it started to rain. And not a light drizzle, either, this was what is referred to as a freezing April downpour. I stopped under a tree and put on my trench coat over my leather jacket and gasped as I put it over my bad arm. I had just finished buttoning it up when I saw the eyes, shining, shifting, and getting closer. The eyes didn’t bother me, but the teeth were long and unusually sharp. The engine was running still, but the eyes were too close for me to be able to just drive off. I casually pulled my colt pistol out of my leg holster, though it was close to useless, as it only held my last bullet, but, sometimes one bullet is all you need. If all else fails, though, I have my machete tucked inside my jacket. As quietly as I could, I cocked the trigger. The creature froze, it had heard me, but it was too late for it, and I blasted it in the face. I didn’t look back to see if it was dead, if it wasn’t, I didn’t have half a chance at killing it, and I was NOT gonna die like that. Being killed by a monster is one of the more… how should I say this? It is one of the more “interesting” ways to go, and definitely better than a heart attack or something like that, but there’s only one monster. And I vowed I would never go out unless it was in a blaze of glory.

It was close to 3 in the morning when I pulled in the gravel driveway, saddle-sore and soaked, to a darkened cottage. I wondered if she was there, or even if she was alive. A lot could happen in a year, especially with the life we lived. And I hadn’t looked back since I left, she could even be out of hunting by now. I meandered up with saddlebags in hand. The door was locked, and a salt line was on the floor, neither of which bothered me. Although it’s harder to pick a lock one-handed. It was lived in, which was good. I dropped the bags on the floor, took off my trench coat and limped to the fridge. I opened it and found beer, that life giving liquid, bread in glass. I grabbed a bottle and pulled out a chair, crossing my feet on the kitchen table. The room was still dark, and I savored it. Darkness covers bruises and messy hair. I wondered what I would tell her, I mean, I have been gone for a while, and then I just show up, no announcement, I’m just here. I lifted the bottle to my lips when I heard the cocking of a trigger, and felt the cold solid bulk of a pistol to my head.

 

⛤Samantha  
Something woke me up, I wasn’t sure what until I heard the familiar sound of the fridge door closing.  
“What on earth?” I groaned as I pulled a gun out from under my bed, it was a little dusty, but it was loaded.  
I crept down the stairs, listening to the quiet laments of an old chair. It couldn’t be a ghost, the salt would have stopped it. I don’t know why I kept salting the house, I guess old habits die hard. I came to the doorway to the kitchen, where there was a figure lounging in the dark, sipping my beer. This was just uncanny, and every nerve of my body screamed “Kill it!” but something was off, so I settled for the next best thing… I cocked my gun and put it to its head. “Who are you, and why are you here?” I growled.  
The figure froze, then lowered its beer and rasped out a dry laugh “Well, nice to see you too, Sam.” and went back to sipping beer. 

I gasped and almost dropped the gun, “Diana?! But why are you here?!” “Well, I do technically live here, so I thought I might drop in.” was her sarcastic reply. I bit my lip and stomped a bit as I grabbed a beer from the fridge “Really!? I don’t know if you know this, but it’s been two years. I thought you might have died, and now you just drop in?!” I put the gun on the table, otherwise I might use it.  
She sighed “Samantha… Look, I’m sorry that you feel that way. But after seeing what I’ve seen, and doing the things I’ve done, I’m never going to be able to have a normal life, and honestly? I couldn't be anything more than a Hunter. If I didn’t have hunting…” she trailed off her eyes looking into the past, full of pain.  
A cold, uncomfortable silence filled the space between us, broken only by a sip of beer now and then. I turned, placing my hands on the wall, taking a breath “I’m glad you’re OK.” I finally said. I opened my eyes and I flipped on the light, changing the subject “So where- You look like Hell!” I broke off when I caught sight of her. She was cut, bruised, and one arm hung limply at her side.  
“What happened?” I yelled  
She smiled bitterly and said “Well, the ghost yesterday was bad, but the bouncers at the bar were worse.” I nodded in understanding “Oh… So just wondering, but how many ghosts- or monsters have you killed?” “47, not counting the one I shot on the way here.” I looked at her, my mouth agape, and managed to splutter “47! In only two years! That's better than Colt ever did!” By this time I was sitting at the table with Diana, who was finished with her first beer, and was on her second.  
She smiled grimly at me and said, “What can I say? They’re immune to my irresistible charm." fluttering her lashes. "I’ll tell you all the fun stuff later, but as for now, can you fix the arm?” She gestured at her limp arm, beer bottle in hand. “Yeah, sure.” I heaved myself off the chair, and said “On three; one-” And I yanked her arm into place. Her knuckles were white around the neck of the bottle, but all she said was “Thanks.”  
“No problem.” I said as I slid into my chair “So tell me, what have you been up to?”  
She slid her journal over to me, a sly smile on her face and said “Start writing, I’ll tell you”


	2. Car Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dianna and Sam find themselves in a strange situation, with a stranger. Strange, isn't it?

➵Diana  
The next morning, I was greeted by a small note on my saddle-bags saying: 

“Had to get to school, but there’s food in the fridge. Meet me at the bar tonight at 5, OK? Drinks on me.  
-Sam  
P.S. Do me a favor and don’t burn the house down while I’m gone” 

I smiled and shook my head. She had always been a nerd, and law school was perfect for her. I cranked the radio up and hopped in the shower, after which I made breakfast. I tossed my clothes in the wash and went out to my bike, stroking the seat.  
There was an old shack standing in the shade of the trees. It hadn’t been used since I left, from what the locals told me. It was small, no more than 25 square feet, there was a dusty reloading set in one corner, a kitchen and a mostly empty loft. I spent the morning fixing up the place, and soon it was mostly dust-free. I had a place to sleep in the loft, a table and chairs in my somewhat functioning kitchen, and a spot for my motorcycle outside. After lunch I plastered the walls and floor with every warding, repellent, and trap I could think of in red paint. The rest of my time I spent alternating fixing my bike and making ammo, which included silver, salt, and witch-killing bullets. The time slipped away in that fashion until 4:20-ish. “Shit” I mumbled around a bullet when I noticed the time. I was refilling the hunting kit for the back of the motorcycle. I finished up as quickly as I could, changed, and left, the cloudy evening nipping at me as I drove.   
It was a while before I got to the small bar, so I ended up being late. Sam pushed a beer my way and teased “I thought I said 5, not 5:30.” I sipped my beer and winked as I replied “You know that it’s only 5:10. Besides, I was busy today, so cut me some slack.” There was a bit of silence before she asked “You were at the cabin today, weren’t you? You know, sometimes I wonder why I didn’t move back up there after dad died, but I think there were too many things I didn’t want to remember.” She took a sip and continued bitterly.  
"Mostly I didn’t want to remember him, even though most of the time it was just you and me there, dad always preferred being in his precious car. I was kind of glad when it was totaled… even though he was in it.” I gazed at the floor before saying slowly “He was… not the best father, by a long shot, but he did try near the end… But not enough.” 

The bar itself was a little worn but a decent place altogether, dimly lighted, with neon signs proudly decreeing beer on tap. There were only a few other people, most minding their own business, so it was easy to talk, though our conversation soon ebbed. We sipped beer quietly, shrouded in shadow and memories. When we heard the screech of metal and the breaking of glass from out front, followed by a blood-curdling scream. I jumped up, mostly out of habit, my glass crashing to the floor, before dragging Sam out towards the noise. It was drizzling when we dashed out the door, the car was across the street from us, not terribly wrecked but smoke was still choking the twilight air. There was no one in the driver’s seat, just a puddle of blood in the car, and an incapacitated passenger in the back seat. "Look strange to you?" I asked Sam meaningfully. She sighed and walked to the car a bit behind me. We dragged the passenger out, onto the ground. She was covered in blood, but it wasn't hers. "Well, she's not hurt..." Sam commented after looking the passenger over, “It might be shock, which means she needs an ambulance..." I rolled my eyes and grabbed a bottle of water from a cup holder, unscrewing the lid. Sam trailed off, looking at something then grabbing it second or two later, before showing me a small bloody tooth. "It’s a tooth, from what, I have no clue." I said while examining it. "Maybe from her friend..." Sam remarked. I shrugged, pocketed it and dumped the water on the woman's prone form, smirking as she shrieked and gasped like a fish, "Morning sunshine!" I sing-songed, earning a dirty look from Sam. I shrugged innocently at her before turning back to the woman, saying "Hi, I'm Diana, and I need to know what your name is and what happened. But first, get in the car." Gesturing to Sam's Honda. 

 

Samantha  
"So, you’re telling me that some THING with sharp teeth, came and grabbed your ward's neck and dragged it off to..." I asked looking at her for the answer. "I don't know!" She yelled "I've been in a crash, witnessed a murder, and been abducted- by two kids, no less- IN THE SAME DAY! I'M A BIT STRESSED!" She was screaming now, also she was so red in the face I wondered if she would have a heart condition after this. "Yeah, I know, sorry about that bit. And Dianna can be a bit... Scary... at times but she really... Means well, and we don't know for sure if your friend is dead... And any way you never told me your name." I said, changing the subject as quickly as I could, looking in my rear-view mirror at a carefree Dianna, hair whipping in the wind, a tiny smile on her mouth. Crap. What have I gotten into?  
I parked at the house with a very disgruntled hostage, whose name was Bridgett, and unlocked the house. Dianna pulled up a few seconds later, and told Bridgett, "If you want to sleep tonight, you need to tell me all you know, and now rather than later. If you know what’s good for you, that is."  
"Can I go inside first?" asked Bridgett sarcastically, crossing her arms. "And do I get my own bed or do I sleep on the floor?" "Hmm..." Contemplated Dianna "Well, I guess it depends on if I like what I hear."


End file.
